


Competition

by missbeizy



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Competition, Grinding, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-05 00:00:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbeizy/pseuds/missbeizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt, AU.  <a href="http://shnks.tumblr.com/">shnks</a> requested: "Kurt and Blaine have been neighbors since they were 16 and they quickly latched onto each other, first as ~enemies~ and then as friends who happen to have sex. Almost every night one or the other sneaks into the other's room and they fuck and it's all intense and hot and they don't understand what the feelings behind it are. When they're 18 one of them almost gets boyfriend and they try and stop but can't until someone breaks and admits their feelings etc etc I don't know, just a suggestion :)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Competition

**Author's Note:**

> It's--kind of that? :) The start of that, anyway. This is a good tease for a longer something I think. In fact, I'd throw this out there as a prompt in and of itself for someone with more musical knowledge than myself.

Kurt is home on the Saturday that the Andersons move in next door. He's mowing the lawn for his dad when the moving van pulls up (of course he'd have to meet his new neighbors covered in sweat and grass clippings) and stops to wipe his sleeve across his brow. 

Two well-dressed middle aged people step out of the car in front of the moving van, and a boy about Kurt's age--short, dark hair--hops out of the passenger side of the moving van. He's laughing with the driver of the van, and even begins to help unload. The people that Kurt assumes are his parents walk ahead into the house.

The first thing the boy carries inside is a violin case that he'd had stashed with him in the main cabin of the moving van.

Kurt straightens up at that; he plays violin in school, and this immediately catches his attention. Most of the other violin players at school and in his classes are girls. What are the odds that another violin player would move in next door?

Watching the moving men do their job loses its appeal after a while, so he goes back to the lawn. He edges and blows and rakes and as the sun is going down, calls it a job well done and goes inside. From the kitchen window he can see the new family next door moving around in their own kitchen.

He usually ignores the neighbors, but he can't help but be intrigued by this one. He tells himself that it's just been so long since they've had new people next door, but he can't help thinking of the violin case he'd seen the boy carrying.

He's--also kind of cute.

"What's up, kid? All done?"

Blushing, Kurt steps away from the window. Spying on the neighbors is so not classy. "Uh, yeah, Dad. The new people moved into the Wallace house today."

"Oh yeah? Did you go over and introduce yourself?"

"Not yet," Kurt answers. "Looks like they have a son my age."

Burt gives him a look that says, oh really? "Well. You could bake them some of those white chocolate cookies and take them over, maybe? See if they're friendly?"

"Dad," Kurt says, blushing harder.

"I'm just sayin'," Burt adds, ruffling Kurt's hair.

 

*

 

That following weekend, Kurt brings over a tray of cookies. Mrs. Anderson--as she introduces herself--answers the door, and she seems polite enough, if a little cool. She brightens at the cookie tray and asks him inside.

"My son will want to meet you, Kurt. He hasn't met anyone his own age yet from the neighborhood, I don't think. Blaine!"

Blaine, Kurt thinks. Hm.

He comes down the stairs wearing cargo pants and a tank top, his hair a mess of curls. "Yeah, Mom? Oh--hello."

Kurt stares into the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes that he's ever seen. "Kurt."

"Blaine Anderson," Blaine says, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"I live next door."

Mrs. Anderson smiles between them. "You boys get acquainted I'll just get back to unpacking."

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Anderson."

"Likewise, Kurt."

Kurt clutches the cookie tray between himself and Blaine like a shield. How is it that he manages to forget how awkward he can be until he's standing in front of a stranger trying to make a first impression?

"I saw your um, case when you were moving in. How long have you been playing?"

Blaine lights up and herds him into the kitchen. He gets out milk and napkins and they sit and eat cookies.

"Since I could hold a violin, I guess," Blaine answers, smiling. "I was first violinist at my private school. I'm--hoping to repeat that here, but it may be too late, being a junior and all."

Kurt's hackles immediately rise. He's been going for first chair since freshman year. "O-oh."

Blaine wipes his mouth delicately. "Are you a musician, too?"

"Y-yeah. Second violinist."

Blaine puts down his milk slowly. "Oh. I see."

 

*

 

The truth is, Kurt is--kind of a bitch. He hasn't made it to where he is in his musical career today without setting niceness aside on many occasions. He's won competitions; he's been featured on various musical showcase websites. He's putting together a killer portfolio of work for college and he intends to spend his senior if not junior year as first chair concertmaster if it kills him.

Which means that he and Blaine just can't be friends. Kurt has never really learned how to be a friendly competitor. It's a flaw, but it's one that he's willing to accept because progressing in his musical career is really all that matters to him.

He had come to the violin a little later than most performers, and he is constantly striving to make up for those lost years by working his ass off. He makes excellent grades, he plays well, and he still manages to have some kind of a social life and a close bond with his dad.

The problem is, Blaine--isn't like him. He doesn't get it. He tries in the beginning to draw Kurt into practicing together on the weekend. He tries to ask him out to the mall, to dinner. He is probably the sweetest guy that Kurt has ever met, and Kurt has no idea whether Blaine is gay or straight or in between because he's too busy scoping the competition to notice.

Blaine does give up as junior year goes on. He makes friends with the other orchestra students and slowly, gradually lets go his attempts to become Kurt's friend.

The friction between them is obvious from the off. 

Halfway through junior year the first violist is forced to transfer schools due to her parents' divorcing and resettling their household. Kurt is given the position after a tryout that isn't really a tryout; it's not how he wanted to get the spot, not at all. It's disappointing to just be handed the chair.

His dad tries to comfort him by telling him that it's the break he's been waiting for; first chair will get his applications looked at seriously. 

But it just never feels the way he'd thought it would.

 

*

 

Blaine gets the second violinist spot because he absolutely kills his audition ("Meditation" from Thais). Kurt hates to admit it, but Blaine is--remarkably talented. There is a passion to his playing that is completely organic, and not something that training could provide. He literally is his violin, full stop.

It takes Kurt's breath away. It's unusual to see such romance, such natural intuition in high school, and--he just doesn't have that. He knows that Blaine is better than him, and it frightens him and frustrates him and makes him want to throw up his hands.

He knows that if Blaine goes up against him in senior year for first chair that Blaine is going to take it from him.

And the most twisted aspect to all this is that the more impressed Kurt becomes with Blaine, the farther they grow apart.

A rumor circulates that they don't like each other, and the orchestra kids subtly pick sides. Verbal jabs get passed back and forth, and neither Kurt nor Blaine can figure out whether they are actually the originator of the comments or whether their friends are just fighting their battles for them.

They don't really talk to each other, but you could cut the frosty silence with a knife.

 

*

 

That summer, Blaine starts to show up outside during the evenings when Kurt hangs around the backyard, grilling dinner or practicing or sneaking cigarettes (it's an absolutely nasty habit that Kurt has picked up, and he fully intends to quit before the summer is over, but it's calming and he has been a ball of anxiety all of junior year).

At one point, Blaine peeks over the fence between their yards and calls out, "That smells really good."

Kurt is flipping a citrus-marinated turkey breast on the grill. He freezes; he can't remember the last time they'd spoken kindly to each other.

"Inviting yourself over?" he calls back, none too bitchily.

"Maybe," Blaine answers, smiling. He has a glass in his hand of what looks like iced tea. "Can we talk?"

Kurt may be a bitch, but he also can't get Blaine out of his head, and maybe this will help. Maybe if they talk--

Blaine slides in through the gate and walks across the yard. He offers a second glass of iced tea and Kurt takes it, nodding a thanks.

"Look, I--I know we got off on the wrong foot. I just don't get what your deal with me is. We play side by side every day, Kurt, and I just--don't like the way it feels. We could be so much better if we just stopped all this in fighting."

Kurt bristles. He doesn't like the direct approach; he doesn't know how to deal with confrontation. He's a mess, but he's not about to admit that to Blaine.

"I don't know what you want me to say," he replies, coldly. "You're my competition, Blaine, let's just be honest. I can't afford to lose everything that I've worked for since middle school."

Blaine exhales, scuffing a shoe against the bricks of the patio. "I don't understand why it has to be that way."

The turkey is burning on one side, but Kurt hardly notices; he is seeing red and he's embarrassed and he just wants to run into the house and hide.

"Kurt, I really like you. And considering the fact that you've been a complete asshole to me this year, that's saying something."

He wants to ask, why would you like me? What is there to like? Tears threaten, and he turns away.

"Kurt?" Blaine puts a hand on his shoulder.

He's shaking.

Blaine walks around to his front, and suddenly there's a hand on his cheeks. "Kurt--hey."

Kurt blinks through his tears and before he even realizes what he's doing he's grabbed Blaine around the neck and kissed him.

Blaine makes a surprised noise against his mouth and kisses him back, hard and fast. When they part, he inhales sharply. Their eyes lock and flick, back and forth, open-ended and frightening.

"Come back to my house?" Blaine asks, rough and broken, and Kurt nods.

 

*

 

The rest of the summer passes in a haze of first time experiences and a scary lack of communication.

They make out. They jerk each other off. They grind against each other, always dodging their parents, always unable to find the privacy required for anything more.

They play together--sometimes naked in each other's rooms with nothing but sunlight for company--and they eat together and they spend time together, but nothing is said.

Senior year arrives and just as expected, he and Blaine are competing for first chair. Kurt has no idea what to expect--they've spent so much time together, they've learned each other's habits and bodies, but--they still aren't friends. And their mutual friends have no idea what happened over the summer, and neither of them say a word.

In fact, it kind of gets worse. Kurt's friends are always trying to find out which pieces Blaine is going to use to audition, and vice versa. It gets to the point where they are on the verge of sabotaging each other and Kurt can't take it anymore.

He knows that Blaine's parents aren't home one evening, and he goes over--they'd stopped seeing each other the morning that school had resumed--for the first time since the summer.

Blaine answers the door and looks down, but he lets Kurt inside.

"Blaine," Kurt begins--

Only to be shoved up against the door and kissed so hard that his bottom lip hurts. He can taste blood when Blaine pulls away. Those lovely hazel eyes are swimming with hurt and misunderstanding, and Kurt--

Kurt grabs Blaine and shoves him back against the door and kisses him, scrambling at the button on his pants.

"Don't," he breathes, frantically shoving Blaine's pants open. "Don't don't don't, just--"

Blaine tears his fly open and Kurt thrusts him back into the door by his hips, grabbing him by the hair and grinding their cocks together.

"Kurt," Blaine gasps. "Kurt, please--"

Kurt grabs Blaine by the backs of his thighs and wraps those legs around his waist. 

"Kurt," Blaine sobs.

"Come for me," Kurt growls, wrapping a fist around both of their cocks and jerking them, rough and fast. "Come, goddamn you."

It doesn't take long, which is good, because Kurt is about to drop Blaine when they both come, snarling curses and soaking Kurt's fingers and their shirts.

Blaine slides to the floor and takes Kurt with him.

"What are we doing, Kurt?" 

Kurt shakes, grabbing Blaine by the jaw and kissing him, desperate and wet. "I don't know. I'm so fucked up, Blaine, I'm just--"

"I'm in love with you," Blaine gasps. "I don't care about the goddamn chair."

Kurt's eyes brim with tears. "I don't know how to be different. I don't know how to be good for you. I--I want to be."

Blaine takes his face in his hands. "Let me try. Let us try. Okay?"

Kurt buries his face in Blaine's neck. "Okay."


End file.
